


"Gold's Kitchen" part eighteen

by mrgoldsdearie



Series: "Gold's Kitchen" [19]
Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Once Upon a Time Fusion, F/M, Once Upon a Time (TV) References
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-04
Updated: 2015-02-04
Packaged: 2018-03-10 13:22:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,442
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3291845
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mrgoldsdearie/pseuds/mrgoldsdearie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The doors are open and the final night begins.</p>
            </blockquote>





	"Gold's Kitchen" part eighteen

**Author's Note:**

> I’m not crying about this fic ending anymore. This is kind of a short chapter. Thanks nominating this fic for the Best AUfor the TEA awards as well. :

There’s a buzz of excitement in the air, as the dining room floods with customers on Hell’s Kitchen’s final opening night. Mulan and Belle are both extremely anxious, but they hide their panic behind strong fearless faces. All the guests are shown to their tables and each kitchen will serve the same number of diners.

Tonight’s winner will not be chosen by who serves the guest faster, but by the customers experience, the leadership of the chefs in control of their kitchen and overall performance during the entire competition. 

Archbald Hopper steps up to the pass, with the very first ticket of the night and hands it to Mulan.

Mulan takes the ticket from the head waiter and reads out the orders to her team. “First order table twenty-five. Two soups and a salad,” she calls. 

"Yes, Chef," Ashley, Victor and Zelena reply back.

Belle watches Mulan’s kitchen, as they jump into action. She’s a little disconcerted that the first ticket wasn’t hers, but she’s not going to let this slow start sour her night. Belle plans to send every order she receives out to the diners perfectly and finish this service as the winner. She’s hoping tonight will be the start of her new life.

Belle observes as more tickets fly into Mulan’s kitchen, helplessly awaiting her own.

"Chef, Chef !" Archibald holds out a ticket for Belle.

She quickly turns to him. “Thank you.” Then circles back to her team and calls out the order. “Alright listen up everyone. First order of the night. Three covers, table sixty-three. Two bruschettas and one order of chips.” 

"Yes, Chef," her brigade responds.

Chef Gold noticed Belle’s slight delay before taking the ticket. He steps into her kitchen and gives her a warning. “Keep your head out of the fucking clouds, Belle,” he barks at her from behind.

"Yes, Chef," she answers, but doesn’t stop setting her plates. She knows this is purely Chef Gold kicking her ass into high gear and not her loving boyfriend. Two more tickets come into Belle’s kitchen and the night is now in full swing.

Both kitchens send out a steady stream of appetizers with no blunders and quickly move on to serving main courses. 

"Next order, main course. Two covers, table thirty-seven. One lamb and a sea bream," Belle orders and organizes her tickets.

The lamb was slow cooked for hours before service started and set to the side to cool. During the start of appetizers, Jafar, who is heading the meat station, prepared some of the lambs to be served, by reheating them in its braising liquid.

"Don’t overcook them," Belle comments, as she overlooks Jafar checking the temperature of the lamb.

"They won’t be overcooked, Chef, I promise," he quickly replies and turns his attention to Neal. "How long do you need on the fish?" Jafra asks. He’s working so hard on being a team player, by not sending his dish up before the fish. He usually doesn’t like to wait, but tonight he’s trying his damnedest to stay in sync with the others.

"What?" Neal questions. Jafar’s Arabian accent always seems to thicken during service.

"How long do you need on the fish?" he repeats himself, but more slowly.

"Oh." Neal bastes the fish in the pan with butter and herbs, much like a perpetration for steak. "I’m gonna need about two minutes. These pieces are pretty thick."

"You’ve got two minute and I’m taking my lamb up."

"Fish will be ready in two, trust me."

"You guys are going a great job. Keep up the communication," Belle complements her team, then jump onto the line to help Regina with sides and garnishes.

Chef Gold is keeping a close eye on both kitchens and notices a dish returning from the dining room and into Mulan’s kitchen. He rushes to her side and checks out the problem. “Mulan, what’s wrong with it?”

"The customer said the chicken doesn’t have enough seasoning."

"Did you taste it before sending it out?"

"Yes, Chef. I think I did."

"Don’t think, Mulan. You have to fucking know."

Mulan takes a moment and looks over the order from the table. “No, I didn’t taste this order, Chef. Ashley needed help and I sent it without tasting.”

"That’s not an excuse, Mulan. You have to taste everything before it leaves the kitchen. Especially, when you have Dr. Frankenstein stomping around your kitchen like a fucking baby rhino."

"Yes, Chef." Mulan tries not to laugh.

"Come on, let’s taste it together." They each take a piece to taste. "What do you think?" Chef Gold asks.

"The customer is right," she answers.

"Remake it, dearie, and taste every fucking thing." He tosses his tasting spoon on the counter.

"Yes, Chef."

"Remember, it’s your kitchen, your menu, but my fucking standards," Gold adds, as he walks out her her kitchen.

"Yes, Chef." Mulan chucks the chicken into the trash. "I need a re-fire, on the fly," she calls.

Gold turns back to Belle’s kitchen and a dish is returning to her as well. He dashes to her side to assist with the issue. “Belle?”

"They said the fish is under and I know that the cuts are thick, but I don’t think it’s under-cooked."

Chef Gold inspects the returned plate and doesn’t see anything wrong with the cook on the fish. “Neal cooked this perfectly.” He gestures for Archibald to join him at the kitchen.

"Yes, Chef Gold?" He adjusts his glasses.

Gold glances at Belle. “What are you going to do, dearie?”

Belle looks to the head waiter. “Please inform the customer that the fish was cooked perfectly, but we’ll be sending out another.” She tosses out the the fish.

"Yes, Chef." Archibald returns to the table.

"Sometimes you’re going to get people that have no fucking clue what they’re complaining about. Don’t let that bother you," Chef Gold assures her. "Get a re-fire going."

"Yes, Chef." She circles to her kitchen. "Neal, I need another sea bream now, please."

"Yes, Chef. I have another one ready right here." Neal removes the fish from the pan and runs it up to the expediting station.

Belle plates Neal’s second perfectly cooked fish with it’s ratatouille side and sends it back to the customer. “Table fifteen, with our apologies,” she tells the head waiter and he delivers the plate to the table.

"Nicely handle, my love," Gold whispers, before returning to Mulan’s side.

Belle nods with a small smile on her face and continues driving her kitchen. “New order, four covers, table forty-nine. Two lamb, one sea bream and a ratatouille entree.”

"Yes, Chef," her team calls back.

"Regina, that ratatouille is a vegetarian entree," Belle adds.

"Yes, Chef. I got it."

★★★

On Mulan’s side of the kitchen, Ashley is struggling to keep up with the fast pace of the orders.

"Ashley, how long on the pork. Everyone is ready but you?" Mulan waits for a reply, but Ashley doesn’t respond.

Ashley is working on the meat station. It’s the most complex station of the night and she’s feeling overwhelmed.

"Ashley, I need an answer," Mulan demands.

Ashley remains quiet and ruffled with the pork on the grill.

"If they don’t answer you, you’ve lost control," Chef Gold comments, trying to push Mulan into taking back her kitchen.

"Ashley, I need you to answer me," Mulan demands once more and she receives no reply in return. She steps up to the grill and directs Ashley off the station. "I need you to switch with Victor. You’re drowning." She removes the pork from the drill and head back to the pass. "Victor, switch with Ashley. I don’t want her touching anymore meat." She plates the pork and sends it out to the customer.

"Yes, Chef." Victor jumps on the meat station, lightly shoving Ashley out of the way.

"Ashley, I need to hear from you, or your out of here."

"Yes, Chef. I’m sorry." She quickly tries to reorganize Victor’s disheveled garnish station.

Chef Gold sees that Mulan has taken back her kitchen, so he turns his attention to Belle side and another plate is making it’s way back into the kitchen.

"Is that the same table?" Belle asks.

"Yes, Chef." Archibald nods and sets the plate down at the pass, then explains the customer’s complaint. "The gentlemen at table fifteen said that it was rude of the head chef to inform him that the dish he sent back was properly cook. He claims that he wouldn’t have sent it back if it wasn’t. The gentleman, I may add, was quite insulted," Archibald explains. "He sends this plate back with the same complaint, under-cooked."

Belle carefully checks the second returned plate and once again the fish is perfectly cooked. “There’s nothing wrong with this fish.” She’s starting to think that the customer is trying to fuck with her. “I can’t keep wasting perfect food all night and that fish is perfect. Take it back to the table, Archie. There’s nothing wrong with it.”

"Alright, Chef." Archibald returns to the table with the same plate.

Chef Gold stands next to Belle. He’s just as confused by the returned plate as she is. From what he saw, the fish was spot on. “You sent the same plate back?”

"Yes, Chef. There’s nothing wrong with it and I can’t keep throwing away fish."

"I would have done the same." Gold steps back and continues to observe the kitchens.

Not long after Archibald took the plate to table fifteen, he’s returns back to the kitchen with the same plate and Chef Gold quickly intercepts the dish. “Don’t worry about this, Belle,” he assures her.

She stares at the chef wide eyed, as her heart beats out of her chest, desperately hoping this plate will not be the reason she loses.

"Just finish your other orders."

"But, Chef, I…"

"Please, just do what I say, Belle," Gold pleads.

Belle can’t tell if that was an order from her chef or a concerning demand from her boyfriend, but either way, she listens to Gold and fires her next order.

Chef Gold pulls Archibald to the side and they discuss the plate and their unruly customer.

"What did he say this time?" Chef Gold takes the plate from Archibald and smells the fish, digging his finger into its delicate flaky flesh, then taste it. There’s no damn way that this dish is under-cooked. 

"He said that this place is disgusting to even think about returning a customer a plate they’ve just sent back."

"Really?"

"Yes, Chef." Archibald continues to state the guests complaint. "He also said that the chefs in the kitchens have no clue what they’re doing and have no business being next to stoves. And that you, Chef Gold, have no fucking clue how to run a restaurant.”

Gold’s internal temperature raises and his face slowly turns red with rage.

"He also added, that you lack talent in the kitchen and wouldn’t know what it was even if it was standing right behind you, biting you on your Scottish fucking ass." Archibald takes off his glasses, wipes them and places them back into his face. He’s dealt with many fractious guest before.

Chef Gold looks over to table fifteen and there are two men engaging in conversation. “Which one of them said this?” Gold growls through his teeth.

"You don’t want to hear what else he had to say?"

"No."

"Aright, Chef. It was the man in purple the top hat."

Chef Gold can’t see the man’s face from where he’s standing, only the back of his hat. He hands Archibald the plate, licks his fingers and storms to table fifteen. “Good evening, gentlemen.” Chef Gold suppresses his anger behind a smile. “You’ve made several complaints about the quality of our food tonight.” He glances down at the man in the hat. There’s something vaguely familiar about him and Gold stares at the man for a moment, finding his appearance particularly odd. Gold thinks the man’s mustache and eyebrows don’t seem to go with the rest of his face.

The man in the hat takes a slow sip of his wine. “Yes, I’ve made complaints, with good reason.”

The man’s voice is almost recognizable to Chef Gold. He may have a problem with recognizing voices on the phone, but in person, its an entirely different thing. “Enjoying the wine, sir?” Gold leans in a bit closer to hear the man’s response.

"Yes, Chef Gold, It’s the best thing I’ve been served all night."

Gold now has no doubt as to who this man in the ridiculous top hat is. He can’t believe he walk into Hell’s Kitchen looking like a goddamn cartoon character. “Jefferson,” he sneers and a malicious smile curls upon his face. 

What a fucking idiot.

Jefferson jumps up from his seat and Gold quickly places his hand on his shoulders, sitting him back down. “And who are you?” he snarks to the other man at the table.

"You said he wouldn’t find out." The second man trembles in his seat. "I told you about sending those dishes back."

"Who the hell are you?" Gold’s voice rages.

Jefferson tries to stand from the table again.

"Sit the fuck down !" Gold barks and Jefferson instantly complies, just like an obedient puppy. Gold turns his attention back to the other man. "Who the fuck are you?" he spoke calmer.

"I’m… I-I-I’m…" He swallows hard. "I’m Sidney Glass, from The Daily Fresh Magazine."

"You're from The Daily Fresh?" Gold’s blood boils, but he can’t do much in front of all the diners. "A fucking writer?"

"Y-yes, sir." Sidney crouches low in his seat,

Chef Gold gestures to Archibald and he approaches the table. “Quietly bring security here,” he whispers.

"Yes, Chef Gold."

Belle and Mulan watch the scene from their kitchen, as they continue to serve food. They're completely clueless to what’s happening in the dining room.

Archibald returns to the table with security.

“Please, escort these nice gentleman to my office.” Gold smirks and watches as the men are taken away. 

Chef Gold returns to the kitchen, boiled over at the entire situation. “Clear down the fucking kitchens. No more food is being served.” What was meant to be a night of healthy competition, turned into an absolute circus. Being pulled away from the kitchen and having to deal with morons in the dining room, took the chef’s attentions away from what’s important and he can’t possibly make a decision tonight.

The Whole kitchen is at a stand still and everyone gawks at the chef.

“You heard correctly, shut this fucking kitchen down now !” Chef Gold thunders up to his office.


End file.
